18+ Munsivaas

[Vicente Valtiere]

Okay.... I just got on this site, and only recently joined. I'm only 13 years old, but find myself quite an author. I marked this 18+ because it's going to be violent. Or at least I plan for it to be. I'm submitting only one chapter now, and ought to add more later.

MUNSIVAAS
by Vicente Valtiere

Chapter 1, The Woman of Intrigue
"Do you have it?" Lord Riadriel asked. "No, sir." his guard responded.
"By the Nine, why not?!" Riadriel got angry.
"The werewolf got in the way, sir."
"I want that werewolf dead," Riadriel said grimly, "by my hand."

*One month previous*
Dar-Jah Pehrnes studied the wolf curiously, jotting down notes on the parchment every minute or two. Erlen would be proud. Erlenferth Engmenssen Ehrarokson was no ordinary Nord; he was a mage. From what Dar-Jah understood, not many Nords were mages. Such a battle ready race would more likely prefer a warhammer.

But it was not just that about Erlen. He loved wolves, and was constantly doing research on them. He was hoping to use wolves to enhance the world of magic. Dar-Jah didn't know how. He never thought to ask. He trusted his friend, but didn't know the first thing about magic.

Dar-Jah was far from his home now. He was in the Great Forest, in Cyrodiil, just south of Chorrol. His home was south of Cheydinhal, in the woods. He knew his way around there. This way was new to him. He'd simply followed the wolf, observing its behavior. He had nothing better to do, and he knew Erlen would pester him the next time they met.

But he was near Erlen's house now. Erlen's house was just south of him, north of Skingrad. Why, he wouldn't be surprised if Erlen were nearby...
He realized the wolf had seen him, and held still. He was Argonian, not Bosmer. He couldn't just command it and run. He then realized the wolf meant no harm, so he slowly creeped away, leaving his inkwell on the ground, pocketing his parchment and quill. He was glad when he was out of the wolf's sight. Silently cursing himself for forgetting his dagger, he walked away.

Dar-Jah was deep in thought, so he didn't notice the woman. An Imperial woman, with light hair pouring over her shoulders and down her back. She was clad in a simple white dress, stopping at her ankles. She couldn't be too rich; the dress was too simple. But its simplicity was what was so magnificent about it. Starting just below her neck, leading directly to her ankles, it had an aura of it. This woman was special. Then he saw her face.

She was absolutely beautiful! All the features of her face standing out in its perfection. She had bright red eyes, which seemed strange compared to her blonde hair, yet unique, and magnificent because of it. The type of person to make you notice your own mistakes, and strive to be like her.

But behind her followed two Khajiits. Strong and hardy. At first they looked like her bodyguards, but Dar-Jah realized she was unaware of them. They were stalking her!
Dar-Jah hid behind a rock. He must get these men away from her. He just had to hope she came his way, or somehow get her to, without alerting the Khajiits.

He pulled out his quill and scratched it on the rock. The woman looked up, and Dar-Jah immediately hid. The woman walked toward him, and he was surprised when she stepped out from behind the rock. She looked at him, frowning. He tried to search for words.
"I.... you.... those men...."
She searched his face. He cleared his throat.
"There are two Khajiits following you, carrying weapons."
She looked slightly surprised.
"I thought they meant harm," he continued, "and I want you to be safe."

"Do you have a weapon?" she eventually asked.
"No." he responded, cursing himself once more for forgetting his dagger.
"Do you have a plan?" she asked.
"Yeah. If we run down this trail, I know somewhere they'll be forced to go away."
"Lead me to it." she demanded.
"I intend to." he responded, grabbing her hand.

He led her down the small trail, and broke off halfway down, turning into the woods. They ambled at a steady pace until they saw a small building.
"Come on," he said, leading her inside. He recognized it as a horse stable. He didn't know it'd be there, but was glad it was, because he didn't ACTUALLY have a plan.

They heard footsteps.
"Can I trust you?" the lady asked.
The question was unexpected.
"Yes." Dar-Jah replied.
The lady nodded. "Good."
She suddenly took some of the hay in the stable and thrust it into his eyes. He heard a growl, and the air around him got heavy. He couldn't believe it. She'd tricked him! She'd blinded him and would probably kill him now...

When he regained his eyesight, he saw the Khajiits on the ground, dead, and the lady standing there, seemingly unharmed.
"Would you take me somewhere ACTUALLY safe now?" she chuckled.

 

[Vicente Valtiere]

Chapter 2, Nicci Vanderforth
Dar-Jah was too shocked to speak. What had happened? That was crazy! She wasn't crazy, but that certainly was! She hadn't blinded him to kill him, but to protect him, or stop him from seeing her power....

This woman meant business. He was glad they weren't enemies.
"Yeah." he eventually stammered. She smiled. It was like she was used to having this affect on people.
"And where would this be?" she asked.
"My friend Erlen's house. You'll like Erlen."
"Let us go," she looked up at the night sky, "time wanes."
Dar-Jah stood up. He looked around, trying to make sense of where he was. Ah, slightly to the east. Perfect! Erlen's house is just south.

He faced south and started walking, the woman following just behind. He eventually found the trail leading to it. He walked, picking cobwebs off his face. They were annoying. He walked on, thinking of the woman behind him. Maybe she was sincerely a friend. It didn't seem likely. He had hoped to just save her and be on his way, but now she was nearly ordering him around. Sure, he was Argonian, but he wasn't a slave.

He stopped. Something wasn't right. Not of the woman, but of his surroundings. He couldn't place it. Of course! The cobwebs were gone! Before, he was picking them off his scaly face every few strides, but this air held no webs. Someone had been down here. He treaded forward, slower now. Eventually, he saw Erlen's house.

The ramshackle old building looked worse than normal. Something was wrong.
"You stay here," he told her, "I'll make sure it's safe."
She didn't respond. He figured she'd listen, and creeped away. He eventually reached the building. Convinced someone was inside, he went around the house, and climbed in a window.

He landed silently inside. He immediately looked around, making sure he was alone. He was in a small bedroom, with one bed, an end table, and an open door. He heard a small creak, and froze. That was Erlen's thought chair. He sat in it whenever he needed uninterrupted thought. He once sat in it for two days to find out why people argue. He'd eventually stood up and declared, "Each person in an argument is simply trying to narrow down a problem to find a solution in the hopes that their solution is the correct one. I need a sandwich."

But Erlen wasn't sitting in it this time, Dar-Jah could feel it. He risked a peek, as the chair was just outside the room. He saw a man in Steel Plate armor sitting there casually. Looking around for a weapon, he saw something more important. Erlen. Underneath the bed. Dead.

No! This can't be happening! Dar-Jah didn't have a weapon, his friend was dead, and a near stranger was outside, waiting for good news. He couldn't leave Erlen here. He looked closely at Erlen's face. Erlen winked quickly, and acted dead again.

Dar-Jah gasped in understanding. He gripped Erlen's foot and dragged him toward the window. Erlen got up and crawled out. Dar-Jah practically jumped out. They crept together back to the woman.
"Is it saf-" she began to ask.
Dar-Jah shook his head, and held a scaly finger to his lips. Nodding in understanding, the woman followed them away. Eventually, they neared Skingrad.

"What happened?" the woman asked.
"I'd like to know, too, Erlen." Dar-Jah said.
Erlen feigned shock. "Nice to meet you again, too. Why after so long, this is the hello I ge-"
"Shut it, Erlen."
Erlen smiled. He turned to the woman.
"Erlenferth Engmensson Ehrarokson, at your service." he held out his hand and bowed.
She eyed his hand suspiciously.
"I'm Nicci Vanderforth." she replied. He immediately stood up.

"Dar-Jah! You let her accompany you? Are you mad? She's a-"
"I know exactly what she is. She's an ally, a friend, and a lady, and should be treated as such." Dar-Jah interrupted.
Erlen pursed his lips. "Alright. Seems fair."
Nicci's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Erlen, I think it'd be best if we all went to my house."
Erlen nodded. "Let's go."

 

[General Charles Xander]

I like this. It's a simple writing style, yet fluent in its motion and story. In other words, it's short and entertaining. A rare yet impressive mixture that is hard to write. I look forward to more of the story!

 

[Vicente Valtiere]

Thank you, I appreciate it. I'll try posting more when I can spare the time.

 

[Sah]

Goooooooooooooo Vicente Valtiere......so

 

[Vicente Valtiere]

I realize it's been a while. This is what I typed on such short notice. I realize it's short, sorry.

Chapter 3, Obvious Secret
"... that was so long ago." Erlen added as the three laughed around the fireplace.
"And then," Dar-Jah put in, "he tells the old lady that he's an assassin, and she was so scared, he now has a permanent room in that inn!"
Nicci and Erlen laughed as Dar-Jah got them some mead. It had been a wonderful day since they'd gotten back.
"Yeah," Dar-Jah put in when the laughter had died, and waited a moment, "so, Nicci. Is there a place you plan on staying, or something you need to do?"

Nicci pondered his question a moment. "I have no home."
"Oh..." Dar-Jah hadn't thought about that. She was welcome to stay, but still...
"Well, you may stay here the night. The bitter cold is no place for a lady." he said, handing her the mead. He handed Erlen his.
"Thank you, boy." Erlen said. "I'd best be getting home now."
He stood up and walked to the door. They said their good-byes and Erlen left.
Dar-Jah looked out a window.
"Night approaches," he remarked, "you're welcome to my bed. I'll take the couch."
Nicci folded her arms. "Are you sure?"
"Sure as slaughterfish shall see a spell."
"What?"
"It's a saying Erlen taught me."
When he still looked unconvinced, he nodded. "Yes."
"Okay." she walked to the bed, looking unsure, and finally got in, as Dar-Jah quite literally flopped onto the couch.
"Goodnight, Dar-Jah."
"Night, Nicci."

Dar-Jah opened the door. It looked dark in there. Surely he wouldn't be there? No, he must. He'd been tracking him for days. He crept in, and heard a gasp. The person turned on their lamp.
"Who's there?" they called.
Dar-Jah gave no answer, but heard a soft moan. The moan from deep inside. The sound of death. The sound of the soul. The person looked genuinely worried. Dar-Jah got angry. Now was his chance! Feeling power surge through his veins, he leapt to the bed and prepared to kill, but when he reached the bed, he discovered a sword, right through his chest. Looking at his murderer, he looked right into his own face.

Dar-Jah sat up, sweating. He heard a gasp, and saw the shadows shift. Never mind the dream, someone was hiding in his house. He immediately took a dagger and threw it at the shadow. He saw it stop in midair. The shadows shifted, and he saw Nicci, holding his dagger in between her hands. Dar-Jah felt his neck, discovering two pinpoints.
"I'd best explain." Nicci said.
"Do."
"I'm a vampire."
"Yeah, and?"
"And?" she asked.
"That was obvious."
"How so?"
"You have red eyes, pale skin, you're well fed, but looked starved when you went to bed. Not so now."
Indeed, her cheeks looked more full now. Nicci looked surprised.
"Was it that obvious?" she asked.
"At the time, yes." he fingered the bite marks. "Will I become a-"
"No, no."
"Good."
She smiled, "So you're okay with it?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Thank the Gods," she exclaimed, "society had shunned me."
"I'm not society, now am I?"

 

[Vicente Valtiere]

Chapter 4, Bigger Picture
Days passed, and as they did, Nicci seemed less and less calm, for reasons Dar-Jah couldn't quite place. He went outside his home one day looking for her, but she was nowhere in sight. He looked up, and saw her sitting in a tree, eyes closed, face focused.

"What are you doing?" Dar-Jah asked her.
Nicci sighed, and let her legs hang off the tree branch, opening her eyes.
"I can't tell you, Dar-Jah."
"Why not?" his answer was ready.
She hesitated, then answered, "Waiting."
"For what?"
"Why do you want to know?"

He gave a little half smile.
"Well, I am a 'keeper of knowledge.'"
She immediately fell from the tree, landing right in front of him, staring him in the eye.
"Why did you say that?" she asked harshly.
"Say what? Keeper of Knowledge? Erlen always called me that. Why does it matter?"
She turned away.
"I doesn't." she said simply, walking away.
Dar-Jah couldn't voice his confusion.

The next day, Erlen came over. It was no surprise when he commented on her.
"You know," he said over his venison chop, "you've been.... off. What's troubling you, m'lady?"
"What's troubling me," she began softly, "is something I cannot tell either of you, I'm afraid."
Erlen frowned, and continued eating.
"But Dar-Jah," she turned to him, "I must ask. Can I trust you?"
"Yes." he thought the question was stupid.
"Can you trust ME?" she asked.
He looked up from his food, and found her eyes boring into his.
"Yes."
"Good."
The rest of dinner was awkwardly quiet.

That night, when Dar-Jah climbed into bed, he couldn't help but realize how relaxed he felt. Quite contrary, when he woke up, distress surged through him, along with bitter confusion.

Erlen looked at Dar-Jah later that day.
"You're sure she's gone?"
"Not a trace." Dar-Jah replied.
"By the Nine, I know what's going on."
At Dar-Jah's look of ecstasy, he continued, "you're not going to like it."
"What is it?" Dar-Jah asked.
"She's dead," Erlen said, "and you will be dead, too, soon."